


Eternity

by melondery



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anachronistic, Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, Suicide, aka not chronological, allow me to restate: ANGST, implied mental health issues, no like ANGST, well kinda soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melondery/pseuds/melondery
Summary: jaemin slips through mark’s fingers, and mark can’t help but follow him to the end of timeinspired by teen idle by marina and the diamonds you should listen to it





	Eternity

Mark laid on his bed like the dead, surrounded by an ocean of memories from another life. If he’d had any tears remaining, perhaps one would’ve slipped down his cheek. The sun sank beneath the horizon in a pool of crimson and Mark’s eyes slowly fluttered shut. He no longer had the willpower to keep them open.

 

Five days. It had been five days since Mark last saw Jaemin. Their last words were harsher than Mark could ever have imagined they’d be, and he desperately wanted to see his boyfriend just to apologize, but Mark figured Jaemin wanted nothing to do with him. After all, he hadn’t sent a single text to Mark since the fight. Not one.

Hours of painstaking deliberation and weak, strained tears led Mark to one clear decision: he had to apologize to Jaemin. In person.

An icy breeze enveloped Mark as he stepped out the door. Despite the bleak weather, he was determined. He was going make this right.

 

“You’re too late Mark, you’re too fucking late!”

Jaemin’s voice echoed in Mark’s ears. Five minutes ago, they’d been fine. Now, everything was falling apart. Playful bickering had spiraled out of control, and now Mark couldn’t do anything but stare on in abject horror. He could only watch, dazed, as Jaemin fragmented and darkness began to seep from the cracks.

“Please, Jaem, please let me say I’m sorry—“

“I told you, you’re too fucking late.”

 

 _Too_ _fucking_ _late._

Damn right, Mark was too late. Jaemin’s front door was unlocked, and as soon as Mark turned the handle, an arctic gust of wind blew it open.

The curtains were drawn tightly, almost as if Jaemin had been trying to keep something out. Or in.

Mark took a tentative step into the apartment. He knew, somewhere deep within his subconscious, that nothing would ever be the same.

The note didn’t explain anything. Even after rereading it until his eyes ached and burned, Mark didn’t understand. Even when he walked into the bedroom and saw Jaemin lying motionless on the floor, Mark didn’t understand. The empty pill bottle that had been on top of the note slipped out of Mark’s fingers as every ounce of strength in his body evaporated. He fell to his knees and couldn’t even muster up the strength to cry.

 

Finally, Mark opened the curtains. Jaemin would’ve wanted it that way. The crimson light of the dying sun soaked the room in blood and Mark let out a shallow breath. Jaemin’s bed still smelled like fresh cotton and roses. Like Jaemin.

The concrete stairs felt like clouds under Mark’s feet. Where once he had been weak, Mark was now rejuvenated. A delicate smile graced his lips and his cheeks were tinged with pink from the chilly weather. As he emerged on the rooftop, wind whipped his hair. A floral fragrance filled the air and Mark closed his eyes, this time out of rapture. Everything was going to be alright. He was just one step away.

 

One step, and Mark is free. Free of pain and free of sorrow; free of the weight of mortality and free of the limitations of a corporeal form. All around him, the world disintegrates and a rosy, sparkling cloud coalesces.

Eternity. That’s what this is. Mark feels as if he’s spread wings he didn’t know he had and taken off— left behind that sunless apartment and that lightless life.

Mark sits idly among the stars, lost deep in his own consciousness. Something nags at him: maybe the twinkling of a new galaxy or the muted rush of the cosmos— or maybe a scent. Mark blinks a couple times in disorientation, then takes a deep breath. A wave of nostalgia hits him hard as the scent of fresh cotton and roses grows stronger. He’s here. Jaemin is here.

Mark opens his mind to his surroundings, and he can feel Jaemin do the same. No words are shared, for no words are necessary. Simply being in each other’s presence is enough. Mark is content, for although in one life he lost his love, he knows his destiny is to spend the rest of time at Jaemin’s side, watching the stars shine almost as bright as a human soul.

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter is @/renjungay hmu with any questions, ideas, stuff like that!! i always love hearing from people:D


End file.
